


Company

by Mischiefs_Hawk



Series: Last Expectation [1]
Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Post-Eldest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 04:01:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischiefs_Hawk/pseuds/Mischiefs_Hawk
Summary: Murtagh didn't expect this when he got back from his mission. In fact, it was the very last thing he expected.





	Company

Upon Murtagh's return to the capital city, Urû'baen, the only thing he wanted to do was to strip off the layers of leather and metal from himself and Thorn. 

Both of them were covered from head to toe- or tail in dust from the roads they'd been traveling. The two had been dealing with a handful of rebel uprisings near the border with Surda. Of course, that was closer to Hadarac Desert then Murtagh had wanted to ever go again. The heat of the desert, with the Beor Moutains in the horizon reminded the dark-haired rider of a time before Thorn had been hatched. When he'd still been free, before he even knew the other young man he traveled in was his brother. 

Before Eragon hated him. 

His younger brother, who had never not been free. Who had a real childhood and never had to fear their Father's rage or Galbatorix's honeyed words. 

Well, soon enough, that would all change. Murtagh had no doubt that the King would find a way to entrap the younger rider. 

As Thorn touched down inside the Citadel, in the Courtyard where a number of servants came by to help free Thorn of his armor. With that, Murtagh could just feel there was something different about them. The servants always were nervous around Thorn, even after being around him for so long now- but there was just something off. Their hands fumbled on familiar straps, side-eyed glances at Murtagh. 

Am I going madder than before- or is there something odd going on?  
Murtagh asked, walking towards the main gate of the Citadel. Thorn walked at his side, one of Murtagh's gauntleted hands resting on the junction of Thorn's neck and back. 

No little one- I feel it too. 

The rider stopped for a moment, turning to Thorn to try and give the young- really, he was so very young it pained Murtagh every time they went into battle- dragon a smile. 

I'll be back soon. He promised. Thorn budged him forward, rather like a cat showing affection. Trying to gain strength from his bonded partner, Murtagh strode forward into the citadel. Headed towards to the throne room, he noticed more strangeness. 

First off, the curtains of the huge floor to ceiling windows were pulled open to allow sunlight in. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen that. The dusty darkness of the Citadel had somehow become more welcoming then before. 

For a moment, he could actually imagine the citadel as a home- one with natural light, with full lush gardens like those in the Forests of the Elves, the people of Alagaësia comfortable with coming to their king with their problems. 

Murtagh had reached the throne room when he felt Thorn's shock. It overpowered him like a wave- threatening to push him over. Leaning off the wall, he tried to call out to Thorn. 

Thorn!?

Within his mind, he could easily see through Thorn's eyes as his mind opened up to him. Within the chambers set up for Thorn and Shuriken's comfort, Thorn saw Saphira curled around the fireplace where furs and silks had been laid out. 

Shuriken was nearby, facing the entrance where Thorn had stepped through. He wasn't far from Saphira- not in a way that implied he was uncomfortable with her presence or so close that he was stating a claim as her mate. Instead, Thorn could not help but think of a Father protecting his young. 

The only female dragon in existence rose to meet him, a hum echoing in her massive throat. 

Murtagh felt his heart drop as he ran forward to the doors of the Throne room. Eragon was here. He wouldn't allow himself to be separated from Saphira- he'd been pounding down on Urû'baen's gate otherwise. 

Ignoring the guards at either side of the great and huge pair of doors- they had barely glanced at him anyway. 

Pushing the doors open, Murtagh found a slightly disturbing sight. 

Galbatorix, as expected, was sitting on his throne- conversing with a handful of familiar magicians and generals. Balanced on the right arm of his throne, Galbatorix's arm around his lower back with his hand resting on the younger man's thigh ,sat his brother.   
Eragon was seemingly ignoring whatever Galbatorix and his men were discussing, instead focusing on the small book in his hands. If Murtagh recalled correctly, it was a history of the dragon riders, written at least two hundred years before Galbatorix was even born. 

His master's black eyes found his immediately, the oppressive pressure on his mind easily traced back to the king. 

The elder man's face turned to a small smile as he leaned over to whisper in Eragon's ear. 

Murtagh easily saw his brother freeze, before his bright brown eyes looked upward to Murtagh's. For a split second, Murtagh thought his brother's brown eyes- usually almost hazel with flecks of green in them- now looked more gold than anything else. 

With the speed of elves, Eragon had moved from the throne to Murtagh's arms. 

"I- Eragon?" The younger rider pulled away, an infectious grin on his face that Murtagh wanted to match. His confusion proving to be too overpowering for now. 

"Murtagh! Galbatorix said you would be back today, but I didn't think Thorn could fly that fast- we should see if Saphira and Thorn want to figure out which of them is faster." In usual fashion, Eragon was speaking about a mile minute, though there was something younger about Eragon. He seemed more like the boy he'd traveled with to the Varden rather than the man he faced on the Burning Plains. 

Behind them, the King's generals and magicians had been dismissed- leaving through another exit. Galbatorix approached them, the oddest look on his face that Murtagh had ever seen. He couldn't even really say he'd seen something close to it before- except maybe during that dinner years ago when he initially tried to recruit Murtagh. 

And even that wasn't close to it. 

"He's been very impatient to see you." Murtagh looked between Eragon who had seemingly molded himself into the king's side and to the king himself.   
The eldest dragon rider was still smiling at his older brother. 

"I can imagine- how long-?" Murtagh felt his throat choke, not even in a real kind of magical way. He felt incredibly lost. 

There was no doubt in his mind that Eragon was enchanted. The question was how, shouldn't have the elves done something to ensure this very situation didn't happen? 

"Dear one, won't you give Murtagh and I a moment? We need to speak about his mission." 

Eragon nodded, hugging his brother again and walking off after pressing a kiss to the King's cheek. 

Galbatorix's black eyes watched the brown haired young man leave, grabbing his book and leaving the room. 

The king's black eyes held a possessive glint as they watched Eragon leave. It wasn't just a man delusional- thinking he owned the other, but more predator hunting his prey. 

Murtagh couldn't help but think of a dragon hunting a doe- with Eragon as the doe. 

He'd seen that look in many of the cities he'd visited, even among the Varden. Everywhere, there were men who saw a conquest in a young man or woman. 

Honestly, the red rider thought Galbatorix completely uninterested in such ventures but apparently not.   
And apparently, it had manifested in a desire to bed his younger brother. 

What was somehow worse was something else he saw in the King's eyes. An unnatural softness. 

There was no way Galbatorix of all people could love Eragon? 

Well, if anyone could make a monster like Galbatorix better…  
Though better was yet to be seen. 

"You have questions." 

Murtagh looked back from where Eragon had disappeared through the door to the man who effectively held himself and Thorn captive as slaves. 

Yes, first off- what the hell?

"Is it a spell?" 

Galbatorix's eyes narrowed for a moment before the angered look had vanished. 

"Yes and no, the things which would have kept him from me are no longer as important. The Varden, Garrow of Carvahall, the interactions with the Ra'zac anything he directly blamed me for- he cannot remember." 

Murtagh wondered for a moment why Galbatorix was tell him this, before it became obvious. If Galbatorix ordered him to, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone this. 

He struggled for a response before just plainly asking why. 

Why his brother, why enslave him in such a specifically terrible way? 

"Why not? Now, he's happy- he's safe here. I know you would not do anything to put our dear Shadeslayer in danger- would you?" 

Murtagh felt his heart drop. If there had been dozens of assassinations attempts before- half of which never even got to Eragon, he couldn't imagine how many there would be now.

The…consort if it was right to use such a word, of Galbatorix would be in constant danger. 

Gods above, he felt his stomach fell at that thought. Not the danger his brother was in, but that the two of them probably had slept together. Especially by now considering how long Eragon likely had been here for, and how touchy Eragon was. 

 

Realizing the other was waiting on a reply, Murtagh nodded. 

He would get his brother out of this. Somehow. 

It was true, what he told Eragon on the Burning Plains. There was no way he would ever be free, but like the scar on his back he'd been marked since birth for slave hood. 

Selena had worked to ensure her second born had been born free. Murtagh would be damned if he let this fate permanently befall Eragon. 

They discussed his actual mission for a moment, Galbatorix seemingly pleased with his work before dismissing him for the evening. 

As Murtagh left for his own chambers first- he still felt rather gross- he couldn't help but feel just a little happy.   
He'd grown to enjoy Eragon's company during their travels together- not to mention he was a damn fine swordsman. 

Not to mention, he finally had the chance to know the only family he had left. Well, there was their cousin, too. 

But, in the deepest darkest part of his heart that only Thorn was privy to could admit the truth. 

Misery loves company.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally haven't written Eragon fanfiction since I started writing like a decade ago. What the fuck.   
> Also I haven't read Eragon in years, or its sequels so if there's a canonical inaccuracy (aside from the obvious) that's why.


End file.
